Chapter Twenty-Nine Make The Fucking Explosions

                                    

                                          
****** (3:42 P.M, Central Standard Time/CST)
"Wake up, Trent," Marley whispers, sexily letting my name roll off her tongue.
"Why?" I peg, looking around the private plane before traveling my eyes to the beauty directly in front of my face. I'll be forced to ask Marley for a threesome once we return to the states. I need to fuck her with Melanie before I fuck her without her. The tension is that high.
"Cause we're here, stupid," she announces before walking out onto Mr. Vitale's private tarmac. 
"Yea, just gimme a second." I yawn, stretching out in the comfortable leather inscribed with Vitale's name.
"What the fuck?" Marley scoffs nervously. 
"Marley?" I call, springing to my feet. I instantly pull my gun and jump down the plane's stairs, ready to shoot whoever or whatever's got Marley spooked. However, as my body floats down the steps, I understand Marley's words aren't from apprehension. Alternatively, she's in amazement at Mr. Vitale's gorgeous mansion. This home isn't even fathomable by most Cartel owners, let alone simple drug dealers. Despite rendezvousing here on a handful of occasions, the extravagant sixty-acre landscape surprises me every time.
The beautiful Tuxtla Mountains surrounding the massive estate display the greenest grass and some of the tallest and thickest trees I've ever seen. The extravagant bright-colored birds are among the most exotic the world has to offer, or so it would seem. The jungle sounds are immediate and roar even louder as the airplane's engines shut off. The air is thick, along with the stench of fallen rain. Though ironically, it's not too hard to breathe since his house isn't further up the mountains.
"Right this way, please." A man dressed in a full black suit urges with a smile. Still in awe, we walk to the White S550 before being driven up to the all-brick estate, where young mobile militants guard Mr. Vitale's castle. Vitale maintains his security despite minimal people knowing where his head rests and even fewer knowing how to get back. In my estimation, about fifty men wander around the home, while another fifty are probably scattered throughout the tall trees to see incoming threats from afar. It'd take a small army of well-developed soldiers to infiltrate. The exact reason I know we're nowhere near ready to take Vitale on, not with brute force anyway. Outsmarting him is the only way we'll get the job done.
"This is the most beautiful place I've ever been to," Marley speaks our minds after we've driven the remaining way to the all-white home.
"Mr. Vitale will meet you at the pool area." The driver explains, stopping the car before running around to our individual doors with a silver platter in his hand. "I will take your weapons now. All of them." He insists, and once we give in, he's walking back to the driver's side. "I will return them once you have finished your meetings with Mr. Vitale."
"Thank you," I answer with a nod.
"There isn't a pool over here," Marley whispers as she follows me to the destination.
"Lemme show you," I chuckle, extending my arm. Her lips go to voice the denial of my gesture before she licks them. Reluctantly, she locks our arms, walking with me to a post that has elevator buttons.
"Press down," 
As soon as she obliges, our platform descends to his underground pool. "Damn. And here I've thought AJ and yo ass was rich," Marley scoffs in amazement.
"Yeah, thanks for making me feel bad."
"Yeah, right! You brought me here. It must've been your only goal!"
"I told you why I brought you."
"You also told me a lie,"
"And what lie was that?" I survey, wanting to see where she stands with things. Even if this isn't the right moment to have the conversation, something has to be said.